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When young Thomas Gradgrind robbed the Bank with which he was connected, and was obliged to flee from justice, it was Sissy who saved him from ruin. She sent him, with a note of explanation, to her old friend, Mr. Sleary,–whose whereabouts she happened to know at the time, and asked him to hide young Thomas until he should have further advice from her. Then she and Louisa and Mr. Gradgrind journeyed hurriedly to the town, where they found the Circus. A performance was just beginning when they arrived, and they found the culprit in the ring, disguised as a black servant.

When the performance was over, Mr. Sleary came out and greeted them with great heartiness, exclaiming; “Thethilia, it doth me good to thee you. You wath always a favorite with uth, and you’ve done uth credit thinth the old timeth, I’m thure.”

He then suggested that such members of his troupe as would remember her be called to see her, and presently Sissy found herself amid the familiar scenes of her childhood, surrounded by an eager and affectionate group of her old comrades. While she was busily talking with them, Mr. Sleary entered into a consultation with Mr. Gradgrind upon the subject of his erring son’s future. He then told the poor, distressed father that for Sissy’s sake, and because Mr. Gradgrind had been so kind to her, he would help the culprit to escape from the country, secretly, by night Then, growing confidential, he added:

“Thquire, you don’t need to be told that dogth ith wonderful animalth.”

“Their instinct,” said Mr. Gradgrind, “is surprising.”

“Whatever you call it–and I’m bletht if I know what to call it”–said Sleary, “it ith athtonithing. Ith fourteen month ago, Thquire, thinthe we wath at Chethter. One morning there cometh into our Ring, by the thage door, a dog. He had travelled a long way, he wath in very bad condition, he wath lame and pretty well blind. He went round as if he wath a theeking for a child he know’d; and then he comed to me, and thood on hith two fore-legth, weak ath he wath, and then he wagged hith tail and died. Thquire, that dog wath Merrylegth.”

“Sissy’s father’s dog!”

“Thethilia’s fatherth old dog. Now, Thquire, I can take my oath, from my knowledge of that dog, that that man wath dead–and buried–afore that dog came back to me. We talked it over a long time, whether I thould write or not, but we agreed, No. There’th nothing comfortable to tell; why unthettle her mind, and make her unhappy? Tho, whether her father bathely detherted her; or whether he broke his own heart alone, rather than pull her down along with him, never will be known, now, Thquire, till we know how the dogth findth uth out!”

“She keeps the bottle that he sent her for, to this hour, and she will believe in his affection to the last moment of her life,” said Mr. Gradgrind.

“It theemth to prethent two things to a perthon, don’t it?” said Mr. Sleary musingly, “one, that there ith a love in the world, not all thelf-interest, after all, but thomething very different; t’other, that it hath a way of its own of calculating with ith as hard to give a name to, ath the wayth of the dogth ith!”

Mr. Gradgrind looked out of the window, and made no reply. He was deep in thought, and the result of his meditation became evident from that day in a gradual broadening of his nature and purposes. He never again attempted to replace nature’s instincts and affections by his own system of education, and as the years went by he made no further attempt to destroy Sissy’s loving faith in that father who had left her long ago; he only tried to compensate her for that loss as best he could;–and for the education which led to the softening of his hard, cold nature, the credit belongs to the daughter of a clown, to whom love meant more than logic.